


IT fandom prompt week

by tinyarmedtrex



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 2018, M/M, Prompt Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-02 08:02:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15792405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyarmedtrex/pseuds/tinyarmedtrex
Summary: My prompts for the it fandom prompt week.Chap titles are the prompts





	1. Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> Holidays  
> Stanlon

“What are we doing?” Stan asked grumpily. Mike had dragged him out of their warm bed and outside into the chilly morning air with no explanation. Sure, he had given Stan a thermos full of black coffee to appease him but it didn’t make up for the fact that they were traipsing around a field at 7am. Stan was cold and unhappy. And very vocal about both. 

“I told you. We’re celebrating Arbor Day.” Mike repeated. He pushing a small tree in a wheelbarrow while Stan carried the shovel. 

“But why? Who celebrates Arbor day?” Stan asked, a slight whine in his voice. 

“No one, that’s the problem. No one celebrates it. That’s why we are.”

Stan glared at his boyfriend’s back. They’d been together nearly five years, having finally admitted their feelings near the end of college. Stan loved Mike with all of his heart. He was the ray of sunshine to Stan’s gray cloud. He loved Mike’s optimism and hopefulness. Mike was always there to remind Stan that things would work out, and to help ensure that they did. He was the person Stan needed in his life. 

He reminded himself of this as he dragged his feet across the damp field, following Mike to a small pike that marked where they were digging. On the drive over Mike had explained that other people would be out later to plant more trees. Stan had asked why they were here so early and Mike had just shrugged, saying he wanted to see the sunrise.

Mike set to digging the hole while Stan sipped his coffee, chatting with Mike about their plans for the weekend. They were house hunting and had four appointments on Saturday. Both were sick of looking but they hadn’t found a place that felt like it could be theirs yet.  Mike was okay with a fixer upper while Stan was less enthused about moving in with a list of projects. Stan was angling for a big backyard so they could have multiple bird feeders and Mike wanted a reading nook. It was starting to feel like they were looking for a unicorn house and it was exhausting.  Both were eager to move out of their small apartment. They had been there since college and it had outgrown it’s rickety charm years ago. But it was cheap, and had allowed them to save up a decent nest egg for the house, assuming they ever found one worth spending it on. 

Stan pulled himself out of his house hunting mindset to watch Mike. His muscles moved under his t shirt, making Stan want to run his hands over them. He was already working up a thin sheen of sweat, digging the compact dirt.  He wondered how Mike wasn’t in any sort of sweatshirt or jacket. Stan had thrown on an old college sweatshirt of Mike’s, one that was too big for him and smelled like Mike. He loved it. 

“What kind of tree are we planting?” Stan asked, watching Mike throw another shovel full of dirt.

“We?” Mike asked wirely. 

“Fine, you.” Stan admitted with a smile. 

“Mulberry. It’s supposed to be good for birds.” 

“Oh.” Suddenly it clicked. Stan realized then that Mike was trying to do something nice for him and he was being a pill. He resolved to try and enjoy this. Between house hunting and their jobs both had been busy and hadn’t spent much time together. If this was Mike’s way of fixing that Stan wanted to try and appreciate it. “Do you want help?” 

Mike looked at him briefly before handing him the shovel. He watched as Stan tried unsuccessfully to move the packed dirt. “You need to loosen it.” He said, taking the shovel back and poking the dirt. That made the task much easier and soon there was a decent sized hole for the small tree.

Mike lifted the tree in the hole and held it there while Stan threw the dirt back over it, both working to pat it down. 

Stan stepped back and laughed. “It’s crooked.” The poor tree was at an awkward angle, like it was mid fall. 

Mike stepped next to him, putting an arm around his waist. “It’s not that crooked.” 

“It’s pretty bad.” He said.

Mike took Stan’s chin in his hand and tilted his head. “See? Now it’s fine.”

Stan laughed. “Oh yes, all better.” He turned to Mike, leaning into his boyfriend’s broad chest and stealing some of his body heat. 

“It’ll grow up to be straight.”

“Unlike us.” 

Mike chuckled, kissing Stan’s curls. “I like our tree. We can come out here, watch it grow and check on it. See what birds find it.”  Stan would tell that he was proud of it, of the small contribution they made. Mike liked this park. It was part of a revitalization of their town. It used to be a landfill but, slowly, they had been recovering the land and making it better. Mike loved projects like this, fixing past mistakes for future generations. 

“Our tree. Are you going to drag me out here at 7am every Saturday to check on it?” Stan asked jokingly. 

“No, I was thinking.” Mike pointed to a row of houses. “That we could watch it from our bay window.” 

“Bay window?” Stan perked up, raising his head and squinting where Mike pointed. He needed glasses but he was too stubborn to admit it. 

“I’ll show you. Come on.” Mike took his hand, leaving the wheelbarrow and shovel. They walked up to a cute house that overlooked the park. 

“Mike, there’s no for sale sign. I don't think we can just move in. I know we’re desperate but we’re not quite at squatting levels.” Stan said as they walked around to the front.

“It’s a friend’s from work. He’s letting us get the first look.” Mike reached into his coat and pulled out a key to unlock the front door. They entered and Stan gasped. It had everything on their check list- open floor plan, built in shelves for books and his bay window. He heard Mike laugh from behind him at his excitement. 

“Mike, this is amazing.” Stan said, running his hands over the staircase railing.

“I thought you’d like it.” Mike said, grabbing Stan’s hand. “Let’s look at the rest.” 

They walked around, Stan already imagining paint colors and where to put furniture. By the time he saw the large backyard that spilled into the park he was sold. “It’s perfect.” Stan was in love. “Can we afford it?” He asked, slightly worried for Mike’s answer. 

Mike nodded. “I checked, it’s on the higher end of our budget but still within it.” A grin broke out on Stan’s face. 

“Mike,” Stan leaned in and kissed him. “You’re amazing.”

“I know. But I like hearing it from you.” He joked, smiling at Stan. “What do you think? Is this worth waking up early for?”

“Absolutely.” Stan said, looking around the room again. “Best Arbor day ever. Not that there was much competition.”

Mike laughed, pulling him into a tight hug. “I’ll take it.” 


	2. First Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First kiss  
> No warnings, just fluff   
> Reddie

“Richie! Look!” Eddie said, excitedly pointing at the corkboard. “I got the part!” 

Richie craned his neck, looking over Eddie at the sign up sheet. Eddie’s name was on a dotted line next to Romeo. Richie’s was alongside Mercutio. “Awesome Eds! We can run lines together!” 

The two turned back to the others, both grinning. Mike had gotten a small part in the school’s production of Romeo and Juliet. The others hadn’t tried out. Bev would be designing costumes. 

“Oh Eddie you’ll be kissing Cynthia.” Ben said, glancing at Juliet.

Richie and Eddie's head both whipped to Ben. “Kissing?” Eddie asked, his face pale. 

“Didn’t you read the whole play?” Bev asked. Eddie shook his head, instantly looking worried. “Juliet kisses Romeo then they die. It’s kinda a major part of the play.” Eddie made a strangled sound and Bev clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll do fine! Don’t worry. It’s just a quick peck.”

Eddie let Bev walk him away, Bev trying to distract him by talking about the outfits. Stan looked at Richie. “How do you feel about all this?”

“Feeling great Stanny, I get a sword.” Richie said, trying to keep his voice light but he knew Stan saw through it. 

“Richie, you could just tell him.”

“You think I should confess my feelings to old Mikey boy? Thought he was yours?” 

Stan sighed. “Fine. Don’t tell Eddie. Let him kiss someone else. See if I care.” He started to walk away and Richie didn’t follow. He didn’t want to talk about it. 

Richie liked Eddie. He liked him in the way that boys were supposed to like girls. He had always liked how the boy was a study in contradictions-  feisty but soft, angry yet loving, cautious yet brave. He loved to touch Eddie, feeling a small thrill whenever he put an arm around the smaller boy, or when Eddie sat next to him during movie nights. His stomach would flip as he thought about threading his fingers with Eddie’s as their hands laid next to each other, never quite touching. 

He had never questioned his feeling about Eddie, just knowing that he had always felt differently about Eddie than anyone else, knowing that he wanted to keep Eddie close and safe. That had always been enough for him. 

And Richie would never admit it to Eddie, or anyone. Stan only knew because he had figured it out, telling Richie that he wasn’t exactly subtle. Richie had begged him not to tell anyone and Stan had agreed, saying it was only because of how pitiful Richie was about the whole thing.

But now, now Eddie was going to be kissing someone else. The thought made a pit form in Richie’s stomach. He selfishly didn’t want Eddie kissing anyone else, even if it was a quick peck for a play. The thought of Eddie kissing someone else plagued him all day, everyone asking him what was wrong and Richie refusing to tell them. 

He waited longer than usual to sneak into Eddie’s window that night. It was a ritual of theirs, for Richie to sneak into Eddie’s room every night for a bit. They’d read comics, watch a movie or just talk. Once or twice Richie had fallen asleep there, waking up with Eddie in his arms. He loved those times but always reminded himself that they were stolen moments that weren’t his to keep. It made him treasure them more. 

“You’re late.” Eddie said, looking up from his prone position on his bed as Richie crawled in.

“Dear old Mother wanted a word.” Richie lied, looking at Eddie. He had his script out and was reading it over.  And Richie’s stomach lurched as he remembered what was coming. 

Then he looked at Eddie, who didn’t quite seem to believe his lie but didn’t question it. 

“How goes the line learning?” Richie asked, stupidly changing the subject from one uncomfortable thing to another.

“Fine. Cynthia wants to meet and go over lines next week so I thought I’d get a head start.” Eddie didn’t look excited at this prospect. In fact, he looked downright miserable.

Richie sat on Eddie’s desk, his lanky legs hanging over. “Why so glum chum? You wanted this.”

Eddie sighed. “I did! I do! I just wish I had read to the end and had known about this kiss.”

“Cynthia’s no cow though. She’ll be alright to kiss.” Even saying that made Richie frown. He didn’t want to talk up his competition. Not that they were even competitive, she had won without even entering the contest. 

Eddie shrugged. “I guess, I mean, she’s not bad but she’s not… my type.” Eddie said, sitting on his bed. 

Richie cautioned another question. “Who is your type?” He asked, watching Eddie pick at a thread on his comforter. He didn’t miss the blush that spread on Eddie’s cheeks. 

“I don’t know.” Eddie replied, his voice small. “Not her.” 

Richie moved and sat by Eddie, trying to be a good friend. “It’s okay not to know Eds.” He said, trying to keep his voice soft.

Eddie shrugged again and looked at his discarded script. “Will you run lines with me?”

“Want me to be your Juliet Eds? Rescue me from my mortal toil?” Richie said, falling dramatically onto the bed, a hand over his forehead. 

Eddie laughed, hitting his hip. “Not if you’re going to act like that.” Richie felt as he stood. “Come on, please? I don't want to suck when I meet with her next week.”

“Yea, you need to hope that she’s the one doing the sucking.” The joke fell from his lips before he could stop it. He sat up and saw that Eddie was a new shade of red. 

“Shut the fuck up Richie.” He finally said, sitting next to him again. “We’ll share my book.” 

Richie nodded, wedging himself closer to Eddie on the small bed. He put an arm behind Eddie and leaned into him- so he could read the book that was open on Eddie’s stomach. That was the only reason, he told himself as he inhaled the smell of the laundry detergent and the toothpaste that Eddie used. 

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.” Richie was reading a few minutes later. Eddie sighed. “What’s wrong? Need a higher pitch?” Richie had been reading in his normal voice, Eddie had hit him earlier when he pitched his voice higher, trying to sound like Cynthia. 

“No, this is just hard, sitting here.” 

Richie stood, plucking the book from Eddie’s hands and propping it open on Eddie’s desk. “Come here.” He said and Eddie stood, looking a little skeptical. “For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,” Richie read again, this time putting his palm up in front of him. Eddie looked at him, confused and Richie grabbed Eddie’s hand, putting it lightly over his so their palms touched. “And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.” He finished, pushing his hand against Eddie’s. 

Eddie didn’t speak, looking at their hands. Richie’s heart was beating rapidly. It was only their hands. He’d touched Eddie’s hand before but this touch was different somehow. Both of them seemed to know it “Eds?” He started.

Eddie’s eyes darted to the book. “Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?” He asked, not looking at Richie. 

“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.” Richie answered. 

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.” Eddie looked at their hands, realizing what the line was referring to. He took a step back, flushed.

Richie swallowed, trying to convince his hands not to sweat. “Don’t worry Eds, no need to kiss yet. That’s not until the end.” He glanced at the time. “I should go. Gotta give your mom the big D before I go home.”

“Beep beep.” Eddie said, his color turning back to normal. “Will you come back tomorrow?” He asked, looking up at Richie through his lashes. 

“Of course my Romeo.” Richie said, winking at him as he lowered himself out the window. “Parting is such sweet sorrow.” 

They spent every night after that running lines, skipping around to whatever piece Eddie wanted to go over.  On Sunday Richie lowered his book, looking down at Eddie from the chair he was standing on. He had insisted on realism for the balcony scene. “You’re doing amazing Eds. I can see why they picked you.” 

It was true, Eddie was good at this. His tone and inflictions portrayed tone perfectly. He was a natural. 

“Thanks. It’s all thanks to my Juliet.” Eddie said, smiling at him.

Richie guffawed. He was less talented but had enthusiasm on his side. Though, he knew he needed to start learning his own lines for the play and not just Juliet’s. He’d been neglecting his piece to help Eddie. “Well, tomorrow you’ll have your real Juliet, not just me in a wig.” He said, jumping down. Eddie was meeting Cynthia after school to start running lines with her, something Sonia was surprisingly on board with. Probably because it was someone besides the losers. 

“Yea, great.” Eddie said with a shrug.

“Not excited to work with her?”

“No, she’s fine. It’s just-” He stopped, looking around like he was worried that someone else was listening. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.” Richie said, worried that Eddie was going to tell him that he liked Cynthia. He couldn’t handle that. Spending the week rehearsing with Eddie had only made everything harder, they two had always stopped before the kissing scene but there was enough touching and long glances that Richie was in both heaven and hell. 

“This is my first kiss. And it’s going to be on stage.” Eddie said, grimacing. He looked at Richie. “It’s stupid and I know it probably doesn’t matter but I don’t want my first kiss to in front of a bunch of people. What if I mess up and kiss her nose? What if I’m bad at it?” 

He was working himself into a panic attack. Richie went over to him, gathering Eddie in his arms. “This is stupid.” Eddie said into his shoulder. “But I’m freaking out.” 

“It’s not stupid. You won’t be bad at it Eds.” Richie said, holding his friend.

Eddie let out a harsh laugh. “You can’t know that.” 

“I know.” Richie said quietly. Just like he knew that Cynthia was lucky to be Eddie’s first kiss, he knew that there was no way that Eddie’s constantly chapsticked lips could be anything less than perfect against someone else’s. It wasn’t possible.  “And you’ll get to practice it with her before you do it on stage.” Another pange of jealousy shot through him at the thought of them kissing  _ multiple  _ times. 

Eddie shrugged. “We’re starting at the beginning. I don’t think she wants to practice it.” 

“We could.” Richie suggested quietly. 

“Could what?” Eddie asked, his eyes watching Richie’s expression. 

He cursed his mouth for moving without his brain’s permission. He didn’t answer so Eddie asked again, “Could what Richie?”

“Practice. The kiss.” He explained, trying not to cringe. “I mean, I know it’s still not perfect. It’s not your true love or whatever. But you wouldn’t have to do it for the first time on stage. You’d know what you were doing.”  He kept rambling, feeling like he needed to keep explaining. “I mean, we don’t have to I just thought I’d offer. These lips are good for something besides licking your mom’s-”

“Yes.” Eddie said, interrupting Richie before he made too much of a fool of himself.

“What?” Richie asked, shocked.

“Yes. Let’s do it. I want to get this out of the way. And, yes.” Eddie said. Richie thought he was going to say something about him but he stopped instead.

“Now?”

Eddie nodded, his tongue darting out to wet his lips and Richie thought he was going to die. “No time like the present.”

“Oh- okay. Yea.” Richie looked down at Eddie, nervous. He didn’t expect Eddie to take him up on this. Both stood, looking at the other. Richie stuffed his hands in his pocket to stop from wringing them and Eddie was chewing on his bottom lip.

“Let’s sit on the bed.” Eddie suggested. “Easier for height.” 

Richie nodded, following Eddie to his bed. Both sat, legs touching, not looking at the other. Richie glanced at Eddie who still had his bottom lip between his teeth. “Eds, we don’t have to-” Richie was interrupted as Eddie turned his head and kissed him, lips smashing together. Richie was too surprised to respond and Eddie had pulled back by the time he recovered.

Eddie was bright red as he buried his head in his hands. “That was awful.” He moaned.

Richie took a breath, trying to recover. The he grabbed Eddie’s hands with one of his, putting the other on Eddie’s cheek. He admired briefly how well Eddie’s face fit in his hand, how soft his skin was. “Can we try it again?” He asked. Eddie just nodded, looking miserable. Richie pulled Eddie’s face up a bit, so he was looking at Richie and Richie leaned in, barely brushing their lips together. 

Richie thought his heart was going to explode, it was beating so loudly and rapidly. And then Eddie pushed their lips together more, connecting them fully, and Richie knew he had died and gone to Heaven. He tilted his head for better access and he heard Eddie make a small noise that was between and sigh and whimper. Whatever it was it went straight to Richie’s crotch and he jumped off the bed, before anything popped up.

“I should go.” He said. Eddie looked up at him, shocked. He what he was doing wasn’t fair but he couldn’t handle this. He couldn’t be in the same room as Eddie right now. “Good luck tomorrow.” Richie said, disappearing out the window. Eddie was still sitting on the bed when he left. 

They avoided the other at school the next day, and for the week. Eddie was eating with Cynthia’s friends and Richie felt jealousy roar in his chest as he watched Eddie laugh. 

“He’d rather be over here, you know.” Stan said, eyes following Richie’s gaze.

“Then why isn’t he?” Richie growled, watching Cynthia put a hand on Eddie’s arm. 

“Good fucking question. What did you do?” 

Richie’s head whipped to Stan. “Why do you assume it’s me?”

Stan sighed. “Because it’s always you with Eddie. And you’ve been been acting weird all fucking week. What happened?” 

Richie looked around. The others were deep in conversation about a new movie they had all seen. “We kissed.” He said to Stan. He needed to tell someone. 

Stan’s eyes widened. “Finally. Then what?”

“I- left?” 

Stan closed his eyes. “You’re a mess. Tell me everything.” 

Richie explained what happened. It was a relief to say it out loud, even if Stan sighed deeply the whole time.

“You need to talk to him.” Stan said. Richie shook his head. “No Richie, this isn’t an option. You have to. Tonight.”

“But-” He tried but Stan gave him a firm head shake.

“Non negotiable. I’ll tell him if you don’t.” 

Richie pouted but he knew Stan was serious. He would tell Eddie. “Fine but he’s probably started locking his window.”

“You are both so dramatic. You’re perfect for each other.” 

Richie opened his mouth to say something but Ben had turned to them, asking about the math assignment. Richie was left to his thoughts. Which was never good. He couldn’t decide what to say to Eddie- should he play it as a joke? Or could they go back to normal and pretend it never happened? 

Richie was staring at Eddie again without realizing it. Eddie’s blond hair fell over his eyes, slightly too long. He was surprised Sonia let it get so long but Richie loved it, he wanted to run his fingers through it. Eddie’s eyes drifted to him and he flushed before looking away. Luckily lunch was over and everyone went their separate ways to class, Richie was distracted for the rest of the day, thinking about what to say to Eddie tonight.

That night he dragged his feet, walking to Eddie’s room. He crawled up silently and pushed the window open. Amazingly, Eddie didn’t hear him, bent over his desk with headphones in.

“But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Eddie is the sun.” Richie said, pouring himself into the room. 

Eddie’s head jerked up, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Stealing your lines.” Richie joked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

Eddie stood, crossing his arms. “Thought you were ignoring me.”

“You haven’t exactly been talking to me.” 

“You disappeared from my room!” Eddie said, anguish in his voice. “We kissed- your idea by the way!- and then you disappeared!” 

Richie swallowed, seeing how unhappy Eddie was. And how stupid he was. “Sorry Eds.” 

“Don’t apologize! Tell me why!” 

“I- can’t.” Richie said feebly. 

“You can’t?” Eddie crossed his arms. “Wow, okay. That’s really awesome. You’re making this easy.” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Richie, can’t you ever just say what you’re thinking?” 

“Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.” Richie replied, unable to think of anything else to say. “Then have my lips the sin that they have took.” Eddie was looking at him, surprised. “Sin from thy lips? Give me my sin again.” He finished, quieter. 

“Richie, what are you saying?” Eddie asked. 

Richie walked over to him, taking Eddie’s hands.  “And yet I wish but for the thing I have;

My bounty is as boundless as the sea.”

“Did you memorize the whole damn play?” Eddie joked.

Richie chuckled. “I think so, accidentally.”

“What’s the next line?” Eddie asked, biting his bottom lip and watching him. 

“My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.” Richie replied, looking down into Eddie’s eyes, hoping he understood.

“Can I have that again, in your own words?” Eddie asked quietly.

“Mine aren’t as good as the Bard’s.” 

“I don’t care. I like yours.” 

“I wanted to be your first kiss for selfish reasons. I didn’t want someone else to touch those lips first. I don’t want anyone else to touch them, ever. And I know it’s unreasonable as hell and I don’t deserve you but, fuck Eds it’s how I feel.” He threw his hands up. “I don’t know what else to tell you.” 

But Richie didn’t need to say anything else. Eddie surged forward and grabbed Richie’s face, pulling him into a kiss. Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie, bringing him as close as he could. After a minute Eddie pulled back, grinning up at Richie. “For once Richie, you said enough.” 

Richie half chuckled, half choked as he looked at Eddie. “So, same? For you?” He wanted to hear Eddie say it. 

Eddie laughed. “Maybe you do need to quote the Bard.” Richie smirked and shrugged. “Same Richie, it’s always been the same.” 

“Well hot damn.” Richie said. He heard Eddie snort as he leaned down to kiss him again. 


	3. Soulmate AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T/G  
> Some angst ahead

Richie was sitting up on his bed, drumming his fingers on his thighs, waiting for the clock to hit the magic time. 12pm. On his 18th birthday. He would finally get his soulmark. He was the last of the losers to get it and alternated between excited and fearful. 

Of course, he knew that it probably wouldn’t help him learn much about his soulmate. It was just a simple image that often only made sense after you found the other person. Unless, of course, the image belonged to the person that he was hoping it did. But he hadn’t let himself think about that possibility, not yet. He was more consumed with worry that he wouldn’t get one. 

It wasn’t impossible. Sometimes people never got the mark. It didn’t mean that they didn’t fall in love and, rarely, the marks would appear later. Or they never appeared and the people just hoped that they made the right choice.. No one knew what made them appear or disappear. They just did, like some cosmic hand reaching out and telling you ‘this person, find this one person and you’ll be happy, you’ll belong’. Or it was like that same hand reaching out and slapping you, insisting that you needed to be with this person and this one only. Richie wasn’t sure. 

He had watched over the past few months as all his friends go theirs. Bev’s mark had appeared as a strangely designed skyscraper on the nape of her neck. She had known immediately that it was Ben, who had sketched that very building the week before.  The next day, she had run into his arms when she saw in at school, kissing him before he realized what had happened. They were dating before Ben got his, a pair of bright red scissors on his wrist, Bev’s prized possession. 

Mike and Stan’s realization had been quieter. Mike’s was a small sparrow on his right calf. He had refused to let Stan see it until he got his, which was a small dog on his collarbone that all of them recognized as Mike’s childhood dog, Mr. Chips. They had proudly showed off their tattoos the next day. 

Bill and Eddie had refused to let anyone see theirs. It killed Richie not to see Eddie’s because he wanted it to be something of his he wanted Eddie to be sporting some broken glasses or a guitar pick, something that screamed  _ Richie _ . He’d been in love with Eddie for years, never admitting it. He had been waiting for the day that he could dramatically show off his soul mark, letting himself imagine that Eddie would leap into his arms and that they’d live happily ever after. It was a scenario Richie had played many times in his head, never telling anyone else. 

Eddie got strangely quiet whenever someone brought the marks up, often leaving the lunchroom table if the group didn’t drop the subject. Richie wanted to ask him why but knew it would set Eddie off. So he had left it, knowing that soon enough he’d have his mark and then everything would make sense. 

Five minutes to go. 

Richie stood, pacing around his room. He heard tapping at his window and walked over, seeing a grinning Bev outside. He opened it a crack, “Well I’ll be damned, Miss Marsh. Whatever will the mister say?” He said, trying for a Southern accent but failed, he was too nervous.

She hefted a bottle of vodka. “Thought you’d want company. Either to celebrate or...not.” 

“You’re a real pal.” He said, helping her in. 

She hugged him warmly, closing the window behind her. “It’s hard to be alone.”

He smiled at her, feeling grateful to have her as a friend. She grabbed his hands, sitting on the bed and pulling him next to her. They sat and waited, not talking, until the clock struck 12. Then Richie leapt up and started looking wildly over his arms and legs, looking for the mark. He started with his arms, then his legs and torso. He couldn’t find it. 

“Bev! I don’t see it!” His voice was distressed. “I don’t have one. Oh god I’m going to have to live with the lepers.” 

“Richie, relax.” She stood too, her hands out trying to calm him. “Take your shirt off and let’s look. 

Normally he’d make a joke about wanting to see him naked but he was too keyed up. He pulled off his shirt, throwing it haphazardly to the side. 

“Well?” He asked as she stood and scanned his back. 

“It’s here.” Her hand covered the lower left side of his back and he breathed a sigh of relief. But something in her voice made him tense again.

He craned his neck trying to see it but couldn’t. “Fuck, I can’t see it. Just tell me. What is it?”

“It looks like…” She stopped, and now he definitely heard something off in her voice. 

“Bev this is not the time for dramatic gestures. What the fuck is it?” He said, still trying to crane his neck. 

She stood in front of him and looked him in the eyes. “It’s silver.” She said quietly. “Bill’s bike.” 

Richie’s stomach dropped. That wasn’t the friend he expected as a soulmate. It wasn’t the one he wanted. “Are you sure?” He asked, “Maybe it just looked like Bill’s bike but it’s something else.” 

She took a picture with her phone and handed it to him. He accepted it with shaky hands and looked. There, on his skin, was a perfect replica of silver, down to the cards in the spokes. 

He barely trust his voice as he spoke again. “Bev, what do I do?” He asked, handing her the phone again. “It's not- I don’t- not Bill.” He couldn’t even say it. He was sure all the others knew how he felt about Eddie but he had never admitted it.

She pulled him into a tight hug. “We’ll figure something out Richie.” Richie nodded and put his head on her shoulder, feeling hot tears forming in his eyes. It wasn’t impossible to ignore your soul mark. Some people did, choosing to live a solitary life without them. But it was almost unheard of to be with someone else. Richie was sure it happened, sometimes, but people never talked about it. It was a taboo subject. 

Bev kept her arms around Richie. “We’ll figure something out.” She repeated.

\----------

Bill was waiting outside Richie’s house the next day when he went outside, leaning against Richie’s beat up station wagon. “You got your mark?” He asked as Richie walked up.

Richie nodded, pulling up his shirt to show Bill. Bill nodded and yanked his up too, revealing Richie’s thick coke bottle glasses on his hip. He looked at Richie. “I know you like Eddie.” He said plainly. “I wasn’t exactly expecting it to be you either.” He added with a dry laugh.

Richie tried to smile. Bill was one of his closest friends. This wasn’t a bad thing, he reminded himself. They could make it work.

“Guess we’re butt buddies now.” Richie said, his joke falling flat. He felt better knowing that Bill wasn’t thrilled either, it made him feel less terrible about it. They looked at each other, neither knowing what to say. 

“What are you going to tell Edde?” Bill asked. 

Richie shrugged. “I don’t know, but I want to tell him today. Before everyone else finds out.” 

“I think that’s a good idea.” Bill nodded. “I’ll see you at school.” He said, getting in his own car. Richie watched him drive away, trying to feel something romantic, even remotely, for Bill. But he couldn’t. One face kept appearing to him and it wasn’t Bill’s 

He managed to avoid the others until third period, which he had with Eddie and Bev. He grabbed Eddie’s arm before he went into the classroom. “Ditch with me.” He said. 

Eddie glanced into the room then at Richie, and nodded, probably sensing his desperation and knowing what he wanted to talk about. “Where to?” He asked.

Richie lead them to the costume room, somewhere that had always comforted him. He loved being in theatre, being on stage and pretending to be someone else. But right now, the small room was nearly suffocating. He wanted to be able to pace but also wanted somewhere that no one would over hear them.

He let the door closed then turned to Eddie. “I got my mark.” He said.

“What is it?” Eddie asked quietly. Richie knew that Eddie already knew it wasn’t him. He got his mark last month. He had known for a month and hadn't said anything. He’d be dealing with this on his own, RIchie realized and his heart broke thinking about it. 

Richie lifted his shirt and Eddie looked, his finger tips grazing over the small bike. Richie suppressed a shudder. 

“Bill. Congrats.” Eddie said and Richie heard the thick emotion in his voice.

“What’s yours?” Richie asked, pulling his shirt down. 

“Guess there’s no point in hiding it now.” Eddie  said, lifting his shirt to reveal a lizard on his ribs. 

Richie reached out and traced the small animal, not missing how Eddie’s breath caught when Richie touched him. “Any idea who it is?” He asked, pressing his palm to it, covering it. He wanted to pretend that it was his glasses, just for a minute.

Eddie shook his head, looking up at Richie sadly as he removed his hand. “No, I haven’t really thought about it because-” He stopped himself.

“Because you were hoping it was someone else?” Richie finished, noticing now how close they were, how he just needed to dip his head and they’d be kissing. 

“Yes.” Eddie whispered it like a secret. Which, it was, both boys had their marks and it wasn’t the person they were standing in a small closet with. 

Richie swallowed. “Me too.” 

Eddie’s eyes whipped up to him, wide and fearful. “Really?”

Richie chuckled. “God yes Eds, you have to know that.” 

Eddie let out a noise that was between a laugh and a whimper and Richie could feel his heart thumping in his chest. Why were they doing this now, when it didn’t matter anymore? He could have had years with Eddie, maybe Eddie would have been his soulmate and he’d have a tiny inhaler now. Maybe he could have changed things, put them on a different path if he had just said something years ago. 

“Please tell me you knew.” Richie said, trying not to let the maybes overwhelm him. 

Eddie nodded, just barely. “I knew.” Richie could tell he was near tears. He put a hand over Eddie’s arm, trying to comfort him. 

“Richie,” Eddie said carefully. Richie knew that he was going to say that they couldn’t be together, that things just didn’t work that way. They both belonged with someone else.

But Richie didn’t want to hear it, couldn’t hear it. Rather than letting Eddie finish his thought he bent down, pressing his lips to Eddie’s. Eddie responded immediately, kissing Richie back desperately, like he knew it was the only time he could, his arms going around Richie’s shoulders as Richie’s wrapped around his waist. 

Richie knew that kissing Bill would never be like this. Eddie’s lips were soft and slotted against Richie’s perfectly. Richie felt like he might explode from happiness. 

They broke apart a minute later, both breathing heavy and wanting more. 

“We can’t.” Eddie said to the unasked question, his arms were still around Richie’s neck. He put a head on Richie’s chest. “We can’t.” He repeated and Richie could feel tears soaking through  his shirt.

Richie put his chin on Eddie’s head, not trusting his voice. They stayed like that for a while, holding each other while they still could. 

Finally he said, “Why not Eds? What if we just, did? We’ll get fake tattoos that look like each other’s and run away. Bill won’t mind, he didn’t seem thrilled either.” He pulled back, tipping Eddie’s face up. “We could be together. We’re  _ supposed  _ to be together Eds, I can feel it. Don’t you feel it too?” 

“But our marks-” Eddie started but Richie shook his head.

“Fuck them. Fuck this.” Richie grabbed his hands, clasping them in his own. “Eds, I’ve wanted to be with you since we were fourteen. I’m supposed to be with you. I know it.” He paused, trying to think of a better way to say it. “I love you.” He blurted out. “Not Bill. You Eds. It’s always been you.” 

Eddie’s bottom lip trembled. “I love you too Richie.” He said, barely audible. “I’ve been trying to convince myself for months that I was wrong, that I wasn’t supposed to be with you but-” he paused, squeezing Richie’s hands. “I don’t want to be with anyone else. I can’t imagine being with anyone but you.” 

“Then be with me.” Richie pleaded, squeezing his hands. “Please.”

Eddie didn’t respond for a minute, instead he looked at their hands, clasped together desperately. It was the longest minute in Richie’s life. 

Then Eddie gave a small nod. “Okay.” Eddie said with a stronger nod. “Yes.” 

“Really?” Richie asked, unable to believe it. 

Eddie nodded again, “Yes, Richie. I can’t- I don’t want to be with this other person. You’re right, it’s always been you for me too. So, fuck this mark, it can’t tell me who to love.” 

Richie kissed him again, holding Eddie close.

It wasn’t going to be easy, he knew that. Defying the norms, disregarding what they were supposed to do, who they were supposed to love. But there, hidden away in a small room with Eddie in his arms, Richie knew it would be worth it. They could handle anything, as long as they had each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't seen a soulmate AU where the boys aren't soulmates - Im sure they exist but I wanted to write one. I like the idea of them being like 'screw you universe, I want this one'.


	4. What they deserve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Canon compliant. Major character death.

They were already forgetting. It was obvious to Mike as he looked around at his friends. 

Richie was looking around, peering through his thick glasses, confusion etched on his face, clearly trying to figure out why he was there, what was going on. Bill was clutching Audra closely, asking her hushed questions, and trying his best to ignore the scene around him. Ben and Bev were hand in hand, both staring into the distance like they knew they needed to be there but couldn’t remember why. Everyone looked like they almost remembered, like it was on the tip of their tongue, but it darted away the harder they tried to catch it.

Everyone had said polite, vague hello’s when they arrived. It had several minutes of talking until they remembered who the other was. Mike had heard Richie call Bev ‘Becky’ and heard Ben ask Bill about his next mystery novel. Details were fading fast. 

The scene hurt less than Mike had expected, that things were already slipping away, that his friends were slipping away. Why make five people bear the burden when only one was required, he thought. Mike was fine being that person, he had already done it for 27 years. He already knew, somehow, that if he choose to leave Derry he’d forget too. But for now, it was all still crystal clear, every detail fresh in his mind. The others all intended to leave soon after this, Richie tonight, the others tomorrow. 

But they had all shown up for this. That was what mattered. Though, Mike suspected, if you asked them exactly why they were here there would be a long pause before they gave an answer. 

He had already gone over to Ben and Bev, talking to them for a few minutes. The two were planning on going to Mexico together, wanting to make up for lost time. They remembered that Mike was a friend and were happy to exchange pleasantries, asking a few banal questions about his life in Derry. There were moments when he could tell that they remembered something, it would flash across their faces as Ben mentioned the library or Bev asked about the Barrens. But it disappeared just as quickly. 

He spoke to Bill next. He remembered the most, since he had stayed in town with Audra. That made it both easier and harder to talk to him. Both stared at the small crowd. “I thought more people would be here.” Bill finally said, his arm firmly around Audra’s hips. “I thought more people would care.” 

“No one knows Big Bill, no one knows what all of you did.”  Even Mike barely knew. After he got out of the hospital the others filled in some of the gaps but he knew they were holding back details, not wanting to relive it. He didn’t push.  

Bill nodded his understanding and added, “It’s better that way.” 

Mike nodded back, asking a few more polite questions before finally walking over to Richie. He had been putting this off, knowing it would be the hardest. 

“Hi Richie,” He said quietly, flipping up the collar on his coat. It was cold and rainy. Dreary weather to fit the somber mood.

“Hiya mister! How’s it hanging?” Richie asked, using his best grandstand voice. He gave Mike a huge grin and gestured around. “We seem to have ordered some bad weather.” He said it in a tone of trying to make conversation with a stranger.

Mike nodded, watching as Richie looked around. He didn’t seem to know why they were here. He saw a  flicker of recognition pass over his face as he looked at Bill but he seemed to shake it off, turning his attention back to Mike. 

“What’s your name, pal?” Richie asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

“I’m Mike.” Another flicker that quickly disappeared, this time leaving Richie with a confused expression, like he was trying to remember a dream after he had woken up. Mike gestured to the wet earth and said quietly, “We’re here for Eddie.” 

“Eddie.” Saying the name seemed to bring back memories. Richie’s face fell as he glanced at the coffin, already lowered into the ground and waiting to be covered with dirt. Mike knew it was empty but the majority in attendance didn’t. The service had been closed casket, no need for invasive questions that they couldn’t truly answer. 

Mike had planned the small service for Eddie, he was the only one who could. Everyone else seemed to be in denial. Eddie’s wife, Myra, had refused to come, screaming at Mike that he was lying, that her Eddie couldn’t be dead before slamming the phone down. He hadn’t tried to call again. 

“Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie screwed up his face and Mike thought he was going to cry but instead he asked, “What happened?” He looked at Mike, desperate for information. Mike could see how hard he was trying to remember. He seemed to know that he  _ should  _ know, that he should remember but he just couldn’t. 

Mike answered quietly. “He died to save all of you. To save everyone.” He was staring at the coffin, unable to look away.  

He thought he could do this, see his friends even though they didn’t remember. He thought he could handle them forgetting again, being left alone again. He had accepted it, that he had regained his best friends only to lose them again. It was part of some cosmic deal they had all made to keep themselves and everyone else safe.

But right now, talking to Richie, he hated it. He felt like they got the raw end of this bullshit deal, they were the ones who lost people- Stan and Eddie to the ground and the each other to forgetting. It felt so unfair that he wanted to cry out, to demand that the universe give their friends back. It was the least they were owed. 

He didn’t though. He couldn’t. His heart ached with the loss but he knew, they all knew, the stakes going in. They had all decided that it was worth it. He wondered if Eddie and Stan would still feel that way if he could ask them now. He wondered if Richie would.

They stood silently for a minute and Mike was about to walk away when Richie spoke, “In the sewers. That’s where it happened.” 

“That’s right.” He looked and saw tears rolling down Richie’s cheeks, Richie making no attempt to wipe them away, like he wasn’t aware they were there. They were silent again, Mike could tell Richie was trying to work up to saying something. 

“I loved him.” Richie finally said, so quiet that Mike knew it was to himself. “So fucking much. But I never told him. And now-” 

Richie was openly crying, he pulled out a handkerchief and noisily blew his nose, not bothering to quiet the sound. Richie wasn’t looking at Mike, instead he just stared at the coffin, like his grief made him forget that anyone else was there.

Mike clasped a hand on Richie’s shoulder, trying to drawing him back. “He knew.” 

Richie looked at him, eyes bright with tears. “Did he? Fuck, I should have told him. I-,” He paused, overcome with emotion. “I had so many chances and I wasted all of them.” 

Mike spoke in the more reassuring voice he could, saying it slowly and hoping that Richie was listening. “He knew, trust me.” Mike glanced at the coffin. “It was impossible to watch the two of you and not know. You didn’t have to say anything.” 

Richie swallowed thickly, turning back to the grave. “I wish I had. We could have been together, fuck, we could have had years together. Now he’s worm food.” 

Mike understood that better than Richie knew. He felt the same way about Stan and their own ‘almost’. He had moved on with his life and it had been bittersweet when the engagement to Patty was announced. He wanted Stan to be happy, wanted him to have a normal life. 

But that had been followed much too quickly by other announcement, the one of Stan’s death. Mike hoped that the years between the two were happy and filled with warm love. It was what he wanted for his almost more than friend. It was what he deserved. 

“I know.” Mike’s own voice cracked as he spoke. It was impossible not to think about the world of almosts, not to get caught up in the alternate universes that they all could have had. They could have stuck together, gone to college together, loved and lived together. Richie and Eddie would have finally admitted their feelings, drunk over a spin the bottle game or sober and sweetly. Maybe Mike would have kissed Stan in the rain or professed his feelings in the barrens. Mike knew he could get lost in the all the ‘maybes’ and ‘almosts’ if he let himself. It was so much more comforting than reality, than the world he lived in. 

But that wasn’t their story, not this time. It wasn’t what the universe had decided for them. It was what they deserved but not what they were given. 


End file.
